


The Breaking Point

by musicdorch



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki, TVXQ!
Genre: Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Jaejoong is kind of a man-whore, M/M, Second-Person POV, not quite porn, nothing gets resolved, really nothing, why do I do this to my OTP?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicdorch/pseuds/musicdorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Why can't I stop thinking about you?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I may be back to edit this. A lot. It's the first real fanfiction I ever wrote, and this is already a fairly major edit from the original that I posted back in 2008, but I'm still not crazy about the mess of dialogue at the end. Please bear with me!

You scan the inside of the crowded club. It’s getting late, and Jaejoong’s disappeared to god knows where this time. You’re always worried about the eldest; ever since he’d gotten in trouble for drinking and driving after a night out, you’d felt obligated to keep an eye on him. Unfortunately, having had a few too many drinks yourself, you’d managed to lose him.  
  
You push your way through the tight press of bodies, leaving a tipsy Junsu and Yoochun by the door. Changmin, not feeling his best tonight, had opted to stay home, leaving you, the other three, and some of the backup dancers to celebrate the completion of your latest music video.  
  
You finally spot a few dark figures dancing in a more secluded corner, far enough removed from the main dance floor to avoid recognition. Or so the logic may have gone, though as you approach the small group you realize that the reason might have more to do with the lewd nature of their dancing than with concealing their identities. As a flash of light illuminates their corner briefly, you pick out Jaejoong among them. He holds a drink in one hand as he lets the music take over his body, raising his arms in the air as he grinds hard against one of the backup dancers.  
  
You know you should pull Jaejoong away; were he to be spotted, you would all have to face the consequences. But the scene before you has you entranced. Another dancer moves in front of the eldest, face to face as they press against each other. Jaejoong throws his head back onto the first dancer’s shoulder, wrapping his free arm around the back of his neck. To your confusion (and more than a little embarrassment), you can feel your body reacting to the sight, but when you catch Jaejoong about to toss back the rest of his drink, you shake yourself out of your daze to push your way through the remainder of the crowd.  
  
Jaejoong turns to you in belated surprise as you grab his arm in an attempt to disengage him from his dancing. His eyes are wild and unfocussed, hair matted sweatily to his forehead as he slurs, “Yunho! Whas’ wrong?” He falls into drunken giggling as he stumbles into the dancer in front of him.  
  
“Come on. We’re going home. Yoohun and Su-yah are waiting for us.” You tug on his arm once more, forcefully this time, and Jaejoong stumbles along behind until you’re out in the cold night air. Yoochun and Junsu are already waiting in the small limo parked by the curb, and you all but toss Jaejoong into the backseat as you take the front.  
  
 _It’s just the alcohol_ , you think to yourself as the pulse of the club and the alcohol fade from your veins. It would have been a good excuse had you not had to spend the rest of the ride shifting uncomfortably in your seat, hoping the others were drunk enough not to take note of the baseball cap placed strategically in your lap.  
  
  
  
The next few days are somewhat of a blur for all of you, a flurry of interviews and promotions for your new video and single releases driving you all nearly to exhaustion. Nearly; nights still find you uneasy and impatient, prone to snap at the other members with little provocation. You’re frustrated and more than a little confused (not to mention ashamed) that you’re still fixated on that night, spending long hours in the studio to work the image out of your system. No matter how hard you work, though, you wake each night in a sweat, Jaejoong’s face in your mind as your body betrays you.  
  
Really, you shouldn’t be so surprised by the scene you encountered at the club. Everyone in the group, management included, knows about Jaejoong’s less than conventional inclinations; they’re a part of him you and the others had come to expect and, slowly, to accept. You and Junsu had taken longer than the others to come to terms with Jaejoong’s uninhibited nature, religions and upbringings warning against accepting such behavior, but you’d finally found it easier to ignore than to condemn. Until now. Now, you aren’t sure of much of anything anymore.  
  
It’s not as though you’d never thought about men, really, but you’d always just written it off as curiosity born of adolescence and hormones. You’d convinced yourself that everyone wonders from time to time. You try to ignore the fact that you’re wondering almost constantly now.  
  
  
  
Tonight follows the routine of the past week: come home from the studio long after the others, thoroughly exhausted; take a quick shower to scrub off the sweat and the thought of Jaejoong from your skin; go to bed with hopes of a few hours’ rest, only to wake at a god-awful hour with the image of Jaejoong, head thrown back in ecstasy, in your mind.  
  
You lie back onto the cool sheets as you attempt to calm your overheated body. Your bandmate, your _friend_ shouldn’t work you up like this. You’re just exhausted, and like you’ve told yourself, everyone’s bound to get curious. Right?  
  
The empty reassurances almost help.  
  
  
  
You begin to avoid Jaejoong like the plague, nearly torn in two from the tension by the time you all make it home at the end of the day. You take the liberty of moving into the spare room, the “room of secrets” as you’d called it once, in order to preserve the other members’ sanity. In reality there is no secret; the room is mostly storage, with an extra futon in one corner reserved for just such a situation. No matter how close the five of you are, one of you is bound to need his own time and space from time to time.  
  
You retire early tonight, the others opting for a movie before turning in for the night. Sitting on your futon, you brace your head in your hands and massage your temples. Aside from everyone’s tiptoeing around you for the past several days, Jaejoong has shown no recognition of your problem. Honestly, you’d kind of hoped he would; maybe all you need is to hear directly from your friend that you’re just letting your mind play tricks on you, that you don’t really want him desperately, hopelessly... You force yourself to stop there and push off of the futon.  
  
You find Jaejoong in the living room with the others. “Jaejoong?” you ask softly, so you don’t disturb the others. He turns his head, wariness obvious on his face.  
  
“Are you okay, Yunho?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s just… well, do you mind if I talk to you for a moment?” You aren’t even sure what you’ll say, but you know that you have to do something about this mess. It’s not fair for you to force your frustration on the others, and you know you’re dragging them all down. If only for the sake of professionalism, you need to clear the air.  
  
Jaejoong glances at the others in apparent confusion, then back at you. You understand the question in his eyes, but say nothing as you wait for Jaejoong’s reply. With a slight shrug, Jaejoong nods his assent and stands from the couch.  
  
You pull the door to the spare room closed behind you, pacing for a few seconds before running your hand through your hair and flopping down onto the futon. Jaejoong glances at the spot next to you, and you nod. For a moment it’s like it’s always been with the two of you: you can communicate with just look or a gesture. You miss that.  
  
Luckily, Jaejoong chooses to break your silence. “Yunho, is there something wrong? You’ve been on edge all week," he ventures, gauging your reaction. You sigh.  
  
“How did… um… well, how is it you first knew you liked…men?” You finish awkwardly, knowing full well that Jaejoong will understand at least part of the reason for your question.  
  
Jaejoong ducks his head in understanding, probably unsure of how to broach this topic, something he'd avoided allowing to encroach upon the group itself—something best kept personal, he’d always explained.  
  
"I think I’ve always known, on some level,” he replies after a few moments’ thought. “I never cared whether someone was a man or a woman—they’re both attractive to me. I guess I never thought about it much more than that. I’d left home by the time it could’ve become an issue, so I didn’t have to worry about my family as long as I kept things pretty quiet.”  
  
You don't find this helpful at all. You'd always believed yourself to be straight—how can you just _know_?  
  
Jaejoong seems to resign himself to doing all the work in this conversation, and you’re mostly glad; you’re too conflicted, ashamed, even, to say much of anything.

“Why are you asking me this?” It's not accusatory, simply direct. You thank him silently for that asyou stare at your hands, entire body tense. “I think I… well, this… thing happened, and I… I just don’t know what to make of it.”  
  
Jaejoong looks suspicious. “What happened?”  
  
You sigh and raise your eyes tentatively to Jaejoong’s before looking back down. “I… when we were at the club, about a week ago, I… I saw someone, you know, this guy… and…”  
  
Jaejoong’s eyes widened. “You didn’t…?”  
  
You look up in shock. “NO! No, nothing like that. I’m straight.”  
  
“Okay,” Jaejoong concedes, apparently unconvinced but willing to wait. “Then what happened that’s got you so worked up? We've all been really worried.”  
  
“Well, before I told you we were leaving, I… I saw you dancing with those guys… you know, the backup dancers?”  
  
You watch the realization begin to dawn on Jaejoong’s face and turn your face back down in shame. It was a stupid idea to talk to him about this. You’ll just end up humiliated over nothing. Because that’s all it is, right?  
  
“You were aroused.” It’s a statement, not a question. So much for nothing; your hands clench into fists in your lap, but you nod and look away.  
  
“Yunho, look at me.” You turn slightly to face Jaejoong, though you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact for fear of what you might see. “You were drinking that night, are you sure...?”  
  
“I’m sure,” you reply, slightly bitter but certain. Jaejoong’s face falls. “I’ve felt crazy all week, like my skin is too tight and I’m on fire. This isn’t supposed to happen—this _can’t_ happen. I like women, I always have. But now…” You shake your head in frustration. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?” You hate how lost and broken you sound, but Jaejoong reaches out to you anyway, resting a hand on your shoulder.  
  
“How can I help you? What is it you want from me?” He looks resigned, and you hate that even more.  
  
“You.” It’s barely a whisper, but for Jaejoong it may as well be shattering glass.  
  
“I don’t do relationships,” he cautions. “I hate being tied down more than anything, you know that.”  
  
You nod, but remain persistent. “I’m not asking for a relationship, Jaejoong. I just want to know, I _need_ to know, what this is. I don’t want to be like this. Maybe if we just… you know… everything can just go back to normal.”  
  
“You know what you’re asking me to do, right? This is… my life. I can give you friendship, brotherhood, but I think we both know you need more than that. And that's something I can't give you.”  
  
“I know,” you whisper.  
  
He nods, and suddenly you feel relieved.  
  
Jaejoong takes his time, and you can’t believe how quickly you’re able to give yourself over to him. You’ve never felt this good, you think, as his mouth and his touch drown out everything around you.  
  
You’re slowly losing yourself when there’s pressure and it burns but it’s so, so good. It doesn’t hurt—shouldn’t it?—and you barely register the cries spilling unbidden from your mouth, too lost in the haze and the friction and the _oh god_ wanting him to do that again.  
  
You feel lips and hot breath at your shoulder, by your ear as his fingers flex against your skin. You feel light-headed and maybe that’s what he wants, because you barely notice when he begins to break rhythm and you find yourself grasping at the sheets in an attempt to give yourself some sort of grounding, some way to hold on to yourself, before your world explodes.  
  
A few minutes later finds Jaejoong sitting beside you, hair in disarray as you lie amid the tangled sheets, and you find your eyes drawn to the muscular planes of his back before you can stop yourself.  
  
You both sit awkwardly for a moment before Jaejoong finally turns to you. “Are you…?”  
  
He doesn’t need to finish the question. Of course you’re okay; that’s the problem. You feel the weight of that knowledge chisel at the crack already forming inside of you, and you need a moment to collect yourself before turning bruised eyes to his. Apparently that’s answer enough—you both know this goes beyond simple curiosity. Your thoughts are a mess, everything you know, thought you knew has been turned inside out and you just want him to tell you how to make it all stop. The worst part has to be that you still want _him_. You still want Jaejoong.  
  
“I told you, I can’t-”  
  
“Why not?” It comes out needier than you’d like it to, but you’re past caring about your pride.  
  
He shakes his head. “I knew this was a bad idea. We’re different, need different things. Maybe it would be okay for a little while, a few months, but I’d go crazy, Yunho. I wish things were different, but I can’t lie like that. Not to you.”  
  
“But what am I going to do, Jae?” You must look as lost as you feel because Jaejoong’s expression immediately softens.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re going to do. You’re attracted to men—it’s just something you’re going to have to accept.” He gives you a half-smile. “If you ever need to talk, let me know. Just don’t look to me for something I can’t give you.” His hand lingers a second too long on your shoulder as he walks away, but you can’t find the words to respond, not even after Jaejoong has returned to his own room.  
  
It’s only then, alone with the weight of his words, that you allow yourself to break.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel clarification is important here, given the cultural confusion surrounding bi-/pansexuality, so I'm going to go meta here for a second.
> 
> In depicting Jaejoong here as bisexual, or possibly pansexual, as well as lacking an interest in a committed relationship, I am commenting only on his own experience. I am not making a general statement about bisexuality or condemning the way his particular sexuality manifests itself. Believe me, I understand firsthand the cultural prejudices and misconceptions surrounding the gray areas between gay and straight. Please do not read this as any sort of slight to or dismissal of bisexuality--this is just my take on one particular person's (fictional) experience of it. Thanks!


End file.
